America, Meet Jackass Knievel

We doubt that your morning commute is half as fun as that of extreme-sports record breaker Travis Pastrana. You may not pop wheelies on your way to work. But in these summer-weight-suits, you'll look every bit the daredevil rolling into the office

Looking for Travis Pastrana? Keep an eye out for ambulances. Here are three clustered outside a gigantic empty hangar that looks like the top of an oversize golf ball half buried along the waterfront of Long Beach, California. It might be the only structure in California vast enough to contain the peculiar ambitions of America's most fearless daredevil, an action-sports polymath who is equal parts world-class athlete and modern-day Evel Knievel.

I'm not allowed to tell you exactly what he's doing in there—some of Pastrana's tricks are
closely guarded secrets until the moment they're unveiled—but
I can report that it involved some bizarre preparation. While set builders, engineers, and film-production people work busily in the background, Pastrana steps into a harness fitted with two bungee cords, which are attached to a five-story metal scaffold.
The ungainly edifice was trucked
in and constructed inside the hangar solely so our star can
work on his "air awareness,"
but it looks more like he is auditioning for Cirque du Soleil.

If you're unfamiliar with his oeuvre, Pastrana is the most innovative and influential personality in action sports. A five-time U.S. amateur motocross champion and pioneer of freestyle motocross, he was the first person ever to perform a double backflip on a motorcycle. He is also a
four-time Rally America car-racing champion, winner of eleven
X Games gold medals, aspiring NASCAR driver, and holder of many obscure records involving wheels—another of which could be set today, if Pastrana succeeds.

His most culturally relevant accomplishment, however, is Nitro Circus, the popular series of self-produced videos that is best described as Jackass starring people with actual talents (most of them his friends from BMX, motocross, and skateboarding). Those videos begat an MTV series of the same name that in turn begat a sold-out world tour that will soon reach its apotheosis with a 3-D feature film. "I want people to say, 'Wow, that's a movie that's actually benefited
by being in 3-D,' " he says.

Pastrana unclips his harness and limps over to take a break alongside his tiny spitfire of a girlfriend, Lyn-z Adams Hawkins, a professional skater who has several X Games medals of her own. Pastrana's only 27, but his legs seem a couple
of decades older. Few athletes have endured, let alone competed with, so many breaks, tears, and blows to the head. He has had at least
two dozen surgeries and nearly died at age 14 when he crashed during a motorcycle jump and separated his spine from his pelvis; doctors were amazed he was able to walk again, let alone resume
his (ab)normal life. "If I was smart,
I would just go live in a beach house somewhere," he says with a big goofy smile. "The problem is, when I take a week off, I still do
the same shit that I do for a living."

If there's one thing that
could save Pastrana from himself,
it is, ironically, NASCAR. "Fans love him," says racing veteran Michael Waltrip, who recruited Pastrana as a driver. "He appeals to a demographic that NASCAR struggles to captivate." To Waltrip's surprise, Pastrana jumped at the chance to drive in circles. For one thing, it's a challenge. "Everyone thinks me going to NASCAR and being competitive is impossible," Pastrana explains, adding that stock-car racing actually lowers
his day-to-day risks. "NASCAR is
still dangerous, but comparatively it's pretty safe."

The signal is given for Pastrana to suit up for the secret stunt, and the crew gathers for a safety review. "Are there any lighting issues, Travis?" says a bearded man who seems to be in charge.

"I'll have my eyes closed," he replies, and chuckles. "So, nope."

Hawkins appears to be unconcerned. She has only one request. "Just don't break your
hot dog," she says.

Notably absent are Pastrana's parents, who have grown tired
of seeing their son bounce off unforgiving surfaces. "My mom can't really watch anymore," Pastrana says. "But she's always been good at allowing me to
make choices." His dad, too, has long been aware of his son's nature. When Travis was 5, he announced he could fly with
the assistance of a bedsheet.
"My dad was like, 'Okay, jump
off the roof. Let's see you fly.' "
Mr. Pastrana pulled up a lawn
chair as Travis jumped and...sprained both ankles.

Gesturing at an enormous
ramp behind him, Pastrana reapplies his well-worn body armor and grins. "Now the lessons are a lot bigger."